Ten years old, few years after Dad left, we have moved over to a log cabin in the island. I remember the time very well. We lived normally, I went to school, Mom was a medical assistant, and things have been so very well living in the cabin. I can even remember the dancing that we would do when the music plays in the log cabin.

The one part that I remember very well, was when Mom brought home a motorcycle. A good pair of wheels like that would make parking in the city a lot easier, and it's fun to ride on. She enjoyed the two wheels and wanted me to be on the motorcycle.

I did not want to be on the motorcycle, and I was not very welcoming for the offer.

I wasn't too worried about how to balance on that thing while Mom drove it, it was primarily all about the noise it would make. It's not like a car at all because many would get used to the noise by now whenever someone goes out to the supermarket; And most would be inside the car when the engine stars. A motorcycle...